


Running with the Devil

by PoorUnfortunateSoul



Category: Leakira, Voltron: Defenders of Tomorrow, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Aromantic Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Corrupt Goverment, F/F, Fights, First Meetings, Gay Keith (Voltron), Government Conspiracy, I just think this AU is neat, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Good Friend, M/M, Magic-Users, Mutual Pining, No hate to the writers, Post-Apocalypse, Trans Lance (Voltron), leandro - Freeform, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 16:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15710907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoorUnfortunateSoul/pseuds/PoorUnfortunateSoul
Summary: “What would you give, to save the people you love most?”“Everything.”“Even your soul?”Lotor stalks around Leandro like he’s prey. Maybe he is; he can’t let himself talk himself out of this, though.“If that’s what it takes, I wouldn’t even hesitate.”Lotor stops in front of him and grins, fangs bearing.“Perfect.”_____—————_____Leandro isn’t special. Everyone lost something when Voltron disappeared.But, Leandro made use of the ashes, and built a new family; a new home. He’ll be damned if he lets the world take more from him without a fight.Leandro turns to the Galra, a group of government scientist that promise him the power to protect his loved ones, for the small cost of his humanity.Thrown into a dangerous world ruled by a lust for power, Leandro meets Akira, a lone wonderer searching for his family. Together they'll uncover the biggest secrets of their world, and shed light on what really happened to Voltron.





	Running with the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMERS - I know a lot of people have jumped on this AU to spite the writers, and a lot of people are mad about it. I mean no disrespect to the creators of Voltron - I just really like this AU and it's aesthetic, and how open ended everything is. It's not really influenced by a canon setting, since there really isn't one, yet still kinda is??? I don't know, it's just neat, and I like it. 
> 
> Also, I am aware that Shiro had another accepted name, but a few people pointed out how problematic it is, so I went with Haruka because my friend's boyfriend has been bugging me to make a character based off of him for YEARS - might as well name his favorite character after him in this AU. 
> 
> I was too lazy (obviously) to think of one for Lotor, but if the fandom ends up picking one I'll probably go back and change it,,, eventually. I am... very lazy.
> 
> With all that out of the way, I hope you enjoy my take on this AU! :)

Walking into Galra Headquarters, Leandro sighs at the refreshing feeling of the air-conditioning. Of course, mother nature would choose to have it’s hottest day of the year on a day that he can’t just sit around in his boxers and binder. Just his luck.

Leandro’s boots make a lot of noise in the otherwise silent reception area. He’s vaguely self-aware enough to feel bad all the mud he must be tracking in behind him, when the receptionist gives him an obviously forced smile.

“Are you lost?” she asks, pushing her black hair behind her ears.

There’s a tiniest hint of a Japanese accent to her words, and it makes Leandro’s lips twitch. It reminds him of when Haruka first found him, half in shock and covered in blood behind a dumpster.

“I have an appointment with Lotor,” Leandro says.

“You have to make those in advance,” she points out, through clenched teeth. “He’s already booked today. He has an appointment with-“

“Leandro McClain,” he finishes for her. “That’s me.”

He gives her a grin, if just to spite her. Small satisfactions always feel like a refreshing drink of water after two days of having none, when it comes to surprising people like her.

“ID,” she says, completely dropping her nice charade.

Leandro pulls out his wallet and hands it to her. She makes a face at the battered star pattern on it.

The look of surprise on her face is one refreshing gulp. He’s sure plenty of people have walked through this building - it _is_ home to the best healers around, after all - but they’d never soil their image by helping someone like Leandro.

He can’t imagine how he looks to her, with her freshly done nails and stain free clothes. He’s had the same outfit for five years, and his boots are the only footwear he owns that aren’t losing their souls. Probably also doesn’t look good that said boots brought in a ton of mud on their clean, white tile.

“Floor four,” she says, “and _don’t_ steal anything.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, waving before he goes.

Leandro steps onto the elevator, and pulls out the box of staples he swiped from the desk.

  
“ _Petty_ ,” he says, doing his best impression of Haruka, before laughing.

The elevator dings, and he re-pockets his tiny treasure.

______————_______

 

Lotor’s office is bigger than Leandro and Haruka’s entire apartment. Not that it’s a hard feat, considering Leandro doesn’t even have a bad, and the living room and kitchen overlap, but _still_. Who the Hell needs this much room for one office?

Lotor, apparently. On top of that, Leandro is pretty sure everything in here _costs_ more than his apartment, as well.

Leandro sits up straight in his chair. Fucking with the receptionist and being exactly who she expects him to be is one thing - messing with Lotor is asking for trouble. Lotor is _dangerous -_ more so than the average person Leandro passes on the street, and he’s bound to be jumped at anyone moment.

It’s do or die outside this small section of the city, but Lotor and people like him kill for _fun_. There’s something infinitely more terrifying about a man that would kill even if he didn’t have to, than a man who kills for his own survival.

“Leandro McClain,” Lotor says, standing up from his chair. “What do I owe this pleasure?”

“Straight to the point, huh?” Leandro jokes, but Lotor isn’t amused.

“I’m a very busy man, McClain,” Lotor says, leaning against the desk. Despite the casual air around him, Leandro is still very much on edge. “I think that’s something we can both agree that would be in your best interest to remember, hmm?”

Leandro swallows harshly.  
“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Do you know why I’ve decided to take this little… charity meeting?” Lotor asks.

“Because you saw how pathetic I am and took pity?” Leandro tries, and Lotor gives him a look. He deflates. “Right. Didn’t think so.”

“I know who you are, McClain. You’re The Champions little protege,” Lotor says, and Leandro winces. He hasn’t heard that name in years. “Some of our best clients come from that little ring you and your master run. I must admit, my curiosity got the best of me when one of my best contenders wanted to meet face to face.”

Lotor leans forward, and puts his face right in Leandro’s. He takes a breath and makes himself Lotor’s eyes head on, despite wanting to shrink back.

“What is it you want from me, golden boy?” he asks.

“The pills,” Leandro says. “I heard you’ve been working on some magic shit that makes you practically invincible.”

Lotor raises an eyebrow.  
“And why, pray tell, would I give them to _you_?”

He spits the word like Leandro is the dirt on the bottom of his shoe. The way he’s looking at him sure makes him feel that way.

“Heard you don’t have many candidates,” he says. “There aren’t many young people in this city that aren’t riddled with disease or infection.”

Lotor smirks at him.

“Cleaver boy,” he says, and the compliment makes Leandro’s skin crawl. “What do _you_ want from this exchange?”

“To be able to protect my family,” Leandro says, exuding the most confidence he’s shown since walking into this office.

Lotor hums, and pulls back from Leandro’s face.

“What would you give, to save the people you love most?”

“Everything.”

“Even your soul?”

Lotor stalks around Leandro like he’s prey. Maybe he is; he can’t let himself talk himself out of this, though.

“If that’s what it takes, I wouldn’t even hesitate.”

Lotor stops in front of him and grins, fangs bearing.

“Perfect.”

He moves to other side of the desk, and pulls out a contract and a bottle of pills. He puts them down, and slides them towards Leandro. Lotor straightens up, and looks at him expectantly. Leandro scoots forward in his chair, and takes the pen Lotor hands him.

He looks over the contract wearily, and frowns at it.

“I have to perform tasks for you? Like what?” he asks, looking up Lotor.

He shrugs and says, “Whatever may come up. This is a science experiment after all, Mr. McClain. We need to know what side-effects there are, and how it works under different conditions.”

“Right,” Leandro says, signing his name on the bottom.

Lotor takes it from him as soon as he signs the last letter, and puts it back into the desk.

“We’ll be in touch,” he says, gesturing for Leandro to leave.

“I didn’t give you my number,” he says.

“I know where you live,” Lotor says, and there’s a dangerous edge to his voice.

Leandro nods stiffly, and leaves the room. Nothing about the exchange sits well with him, but he _had_ to do this. He has to protect the only person who’s seen something in him worthy of having a future.

 

____———______

A boy on a motorcycle nearly takes Leandro’s foot off when he’s left the building. He glances at Leandro when he pushes his goggles to sit up higher on his head, but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge that’s nearly committed _murder._  
“You know you can’t park there, right?” Leandro asks, trying to nonchalantly place a hand on his hammering heart.

The boy doesn’t answer, just adjusts his ponytail and gets off of the motorcycle. He bumps shoulders with Leandro when he walks inside, which he _knows_ he does on purpose - there’s a whole sidewalk for fucks sake!

If the receptionist made those faces and Leandro, God would he _love_ to see what sour faces her stuck up ass makes at that kid. He thinks better of it though, and continues home. Haruka would have his ass if he came home covered in bruises because he couldn’t keep his nose in his own business. Again.

Leandro takes the pill bottle out of his pocket, and studies it. There’s no label, no warnings - only instructions. One in the morning, and one at night.

“It’s my turn to save us, Haru,” Leandro murmurs to himself, taking out a pill and swallowing it harshly.


End file.
